For anyone who needs a laugh...

Sorry to disappoint, but I don' t have any new pictures. I do, however, have an embarrassing story to tell. Feel free to laugh at my expense.

Tuesday morning I woke up, voted, packed up the car, and got on the road. My car was loaded with my own clothes, Sam's clothes, diapers, bottles, etc., and Linus. I was quite the sight. I was on my way to Senatobia for a very quick visit with my parents. On my way out of Jackson, I decided to stop at Chik-Fil-A in Madison for some yummy chicken minis. All of my work cohorts know about my relationship with the chicken mini--especially when I was pregnant. I'm pretty sure that chicken minis account for Sam's birth weight.

For those of you not familiar with the Chik-Fil-A drive-through system, let me enlighten you. The drive-through wraps all around the building, and while waiting in line, it's possible that you can get hit by cars pulling out of parking places between the building and the line. (Anthony is cringing right now; he HATES "driving stories.") Anyway, I'm about to be the next car to give my order when I see this lady get in her car...I'm right behind her. The whole time I'm thinking, "She's about to hit me; she's about to hit me"...she did. I laid on my horn, but it didn't matter. She slams into my driver's side back door. So here I am, in the parking lot of Chik-fil-a, car packed to the gills, dog going crazy, you name it. I get out and check on Sam, and all seems well. We then have to wait on the police to get there. Grreeeeaattt...

The policewoman shows up, (fairly quickly--yay for Madison police!) takes our information, and assesses the damage to my car. I truly felt sorry for the girl who hit me. She was a babysitter, and she wasn't even in her own car. Anyway, the policewoman asks me if I want to have anyone check out Sam.

Me: Should I?

Her: It's up to you...how old is he?

Me: Almost six months.

Her: Again, it's up to you. We just have to ask you for protocol's sake.

I'm thinking to myself, "I'm sure he's fine, but what if I don't get him checked and something is wrong?" Typical nervous mother.

Me: Okay, maybe someone should just check to be sure. I'm 99% sure he's fine, though.

She puts in a call to her headquarters, and the next thing I know, there is a huge fire truck and ambulance pulling into Chik-Fil-A WITH SIRENS ON. Highly, highly, embarrassing. To top it off, several of my old students were going in and out.

"Hey, Mrs. Sherman. What's wrong?"

Geez...

The paramedics get out and check Sam. Even more people start staring. His vitals are fine, and we're told we can go. I sign the papers and get out of there as soon as possible.

Without my breakfast.